


today you are young, too soon, you are old.

by bonesbuckleup



Series: ad astra [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, M/M, More than Likely Medical Inaccuracies, off screen character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesbuckleup/pseuds/bonesbuckleup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s funny how the human body works</p>
<p>Leonard McCoy knows all the little tricks and functions that go into making the body tick, and he should; he didn’t spend 10 years becoming a trauma surgeon to not understand how the human body works.</p>
<p>But understanding that he’s in shock and that’s why he can’t feel pain is useless when all he can see is a large piece of metal sticking out of his left arm.</p>
<p>(was known as unbreakable but then it got rewritten, or on tumblr as the 'leonard loses an arm au')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD THIS FIC.
> 
> This fic and I had difficulties, and eventually it got to the point where it was start afresh or get a divorce.
> 
> We're in couples therapy now, we've both agreed to make some changes and we're much happier.
> 
> (aka the fic that got rewritten instead of just being deleted)
> 
> If you've just started reading this; hi! You've joined just as I've promised to update more, you lucky devil you!
> 
> If you were reading this before and now you're like "There used to be 11 chapters???" It's for the best that this happened, trust me. There's no major plot changes, just hopefully an improvement on quality, fic length, characterization and everything else really.
> 
> I'm sorry if you preferred the old version, but rewriting was the only way I could feasibly carry on with this fic.
> 
> Tags will be updated as we go along!
> 
> The title comes from This Bitter Earth / On The Nature Of Daylight by Dinah Washington & Max Richter, which I more or less had on repeat while writing most of this.
> 
> Thank you to Shannon, Anne + Finn for reading this over for me you are all stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone grieves in different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don’t notice it, but, out of the blue, it’ll flare to life.”  
> ― Maria V. Snyder, Storm Glass

It’s funny how the human body works

Leonard McCoy knows all the little tricks and functions that go into making the body tick, and he should; he didn’t spend 10 years becoming a trauma surgeon to not understand how the human body works.

But understanding that he’s in shock and that’s why he can’t feel pain is useless when all he can see is a large piece of metal sticking out of his left arm.

 

He must pass out at some point (his brain offers multiple options for why – blood loss, pain, shock) because the next time he opens his eyes there’s the bright, artificial lights of the hospital, and an overwhelming feeling of something being _wrong_.

“Leo? Honey are you awake?” It takes him a moment to register the voice, everything feels fuzzy and distant, but he manages to turn his head to see his grandma sat next to the bed.

Leonard wants to ask why she’s there, and why he’s in a hospital bed in the first place, he’s a doctor not a patient after all. But his eyes drift shut again, and before he can really understand what’s happened, he’s asleep again.

It takes a few more tries before Leonard manages to stay awake long enough for someone to fetch his doctor – someone called Dowd that Leonard has never heard of before – to tell Leonard what’s happened despite his protests that he doesn’t need a doctor, he _is_ a doctor damn it. The whole time his grandma sits by his bedside, giving him this sad look that would probably make more sense if he wasn’t doped up on morphine, and the feeling of wrongness in his chest hasn’t faded away.

But then Dowd is in the room, 6 foot something with a shock of orange on his head, and Leonard’s world turns upside down

He’d been in a car crash, a serious one with two other cars and a truck. A piece of metal had gotten loose in the collision and was flung into Leonard’s left arm, just below the shoulder.

They hadn’t been able to save the arm.

“I’m a surgeon.” It’s like he’s on another planet, because until it was pointed out to him that he doesn’t actually have that arm anymore, Leonard hadn’t noticed. Now the empty space where his arm should be was all he could look at. “I need two hands.”

“We tried to save it Leonard, but the damage was too great. I’m sorry.”

“But I _need_ two hands.”

“Leo, sweetie, there’s something else.” That’s his grandma, and he manages to rip his eyes away from the empty hospital gown sleeve to look at her.

“I don’t think now is really the best time, Mrs McCoy. He’s been under a lot of stress; he needs time to recover first.” Dowd has a nasal voice, and he keeps sending nervous glances towards Leonard’s chart, then at Leonard himself. Leonard’s glad he’s never heard of the man before today, he’s probably one of those surgeons that sing while they’re operating to keep them on task. “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

There’s something in the way his grandma’s looking at him that’s familiar.

“Where’s Jocelyn?” It hits him suddenly that she isn’t here. He’s lost his arm and his wife isn’t here. His daughter isn’t here. “Where’s Jo?”

No one answers his questions, but the feeling of wrongness that’s been plaguing him since he woke up turns into a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach pain and all of a sudden, he knows.

His grandma is looking at him the way she looked at his father when Leonard’s mother died.

“I’m sorry, Leo. I’m so sorry,” His grandma’s voice cracks, and suddenly Leonard can’t breathe through the pain in his chest, because this can’t be happening, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to Leonard, but it has happened because Leonard’s arm is gone, Dowd is shouting for a nurse, and he can’t _breathe_.

“Leo, they didn’t make it.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It doesn't get better," I said. "The pain. The wounds scab over and you don't always feel like a knife is slashing through you. But when you least expect it, the pain flashes to remind you you'll never be the same.”  
> ― Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits

“Depression is often found in people who’ve lost a limb, Leonard.”

It took two days for the nurses to realise that Leonard wasn’t going to eat the food they put in front of him, and now Dowd is sat in the chair where his grandma has been camped out – she’s gone back to her hotel to take a shower and phone his grandpa – and is talking to Leonard in the “I’m here to help you” tone all doctors have, and Leonard thinks he’s meant to look concerned but ultimately he just looks constipated.

“I’m having difficulty separating the depression caused from losing a limb from the depression caused from being told my wife and daughter are dead, do you have any advice?”

Dowd splutters and looks like he’s actually trying to think of something helpful to say, so Leonard takes pity on him and fakes being asleep until he leaves.

He must’ve fallen asleep for real at some point, because when he opens his eyes again the sky is darker and his grandma is back, this time with knitting.

“You should be nicer to Doctor Dowd, Leo. He’s just trying to make sure you’re recovering properly.”

“Doctor Dowd is a prick who keeps forgetting that I’m a doctor too.”

Leonard’s grandma turns back to her knitting, but not before he sees her eyes flit to his left arm. Or rather, the space where his left arm should be, and Leonard guesses he should start saying he was a doctor, because he sure as hell isn’t one anymore.

Not when he’s only got one arm.

“You should still be nice to the man, Leo. He did save your life.”

“You’re right. Do you think I can get a ‘Thanks for cutting off my arm’ card in the hospital gift shop, or am I going to have to search for one online?”

His grandma doesn’t answer him, just gets up and makes an excuse to leave the room.

Leonard wants to be mad at her, because she can get up and leave, she can use two hands, she can still hug her husband, and Leonard?

Leonard can’t even leave this bed to talk to someone about arranging the funeral.

The funeral.

Leonard has to shut his eyes against the fresh wave of pain that appears in his chest when he thinks about it, because it’s all too horrible to be real.

He hasn’t cried since they told him that Jocelyn and Joanna were gone, he hasn’t felt much of anything since his panic attack when they first told him.

He wants to cry. He wants to cry because he’s never going to see Jocelyn in her new blue dress. He’s never going to take Joanna to ballet practice, or act as her balancing beam when she wants to show off what she learnt that day. He wants to cry because he’s never going to hold a scalpel again.

Dowd hasn’t said anything, which really, is probably for the best; Leonard wants to throw something at him at the best of times, but Leonard knows.

You can’t be a surgeon with only one hand.

But he doesn’t cry, or throw anything at Dowd, he just lies in the bed and watches as the nurses check the stitches on his shoulder and ask him how he’s feeling that day, and if he’s ready to start eating the meals they leave out for him.

If it weren’t for the fact that it would actually require not only starting but _maintaining_ a conversation with Dowd, Leonard would ask if there was any shrapnel in his chest that was making him feel so empty inside. But Dowd’s constipated concerned face just makes Leonard cringe, and really it’s just not worth it.

The closest Leonard gets to feeling something other than pain at the thought of having to bury his girls and annoyance at Dowd’s general existence, is in the quiet moments when he’s between sleep and wakefulness, when he catches the scent of Joanna’s shampoo, or he can feel Jocelyn’s fingers brushing against his, and it’s enough to settle him into a dreamless sleep, until he wakes up with a sinking realisation that they’re still gone.

That they’re always going to be gone now.

“I know when you’re pretending to sleep, Leo.” He’s jolted awake when someone hits his foot with a chart, and he’s really not surprised when he opens his eyes to see Christine Chapel standing at the foot of his bed, chart in her hand and a smirk on her face.

“Your bedside manner is awful.”

“Coming from you?”

“Your scrubs make you look old and pale.”

“I missed you too. The ER isn’t the same without your scowls lighting up the place.” Chapel hits his foot with her chart again and grins. “I’d hug you but I’d probably get told off for sexually harassing a patient.”

“I’d rather you sexually harass me than Dowd. His hair is obnoxious; it’s probably slowing down my recovery. Can I complain about that? I’d like to.”

“Obnoxious hair colour, got it.” Chapel actually writes something down, which surprises Leonard for about five seconds before she turns it round to show a drawing of a stick man.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah but I do great IVs.” There’s a moment when Chapel frowns, and it looks like she wants to say something, but there must be something in his expression that makes her decide against it, because she just goes with; “Is there anything I can do, Leo? Can I do anything for you?”

“Can you bring my family back?” Chapel’s face falls and she reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze. He avoids thinking about the fact that she can only hold the one now.

“No, sweetie, I can’t.”

“Then no. There’s nothing.”

“I thought so. I’m sorry.”

“I get told that a lot lately.” It’s the best he’s felt since he woke up, but it also leaves him feeling so drained it’s almost like he’s suffering from blood loss all over again, and he finds himself drifting off to sleep even as Chapel holds his hand.

\----------

“Do you have any special requests?”

 _For my wife and daughter to be alive and my left arm to still be attached?_ Is what he thinks, but in the end Leonard just shrugs and says; “Joanna likes green.”

The woman arranging the funeral is nice enough, short with wild black curls. But she keeps giving him this wide smile, and it’d be unsettling at the best of times, but when she’s asking him what kind of wood he’d like to use for the coffins, it becomes more than a little bit psychotic.

She’s just getting to what kind of music Leonard wants when his saviour comes in the form of Mrs Nyota Uhura-Spock.

Leonard’s always liked Nyota. He’s known her ever since Jocelyn came home from work one day beaming about the “lovely Miss Uhura” that had just joined her at the real estate agency, and within days Nyota and her, somewhat strange, boyfriend Spock (his first name isn’t English, and as far as Leonard’s aware, Nyota is the only one outside of Spock’s family that can actually pronounce it) were round for dinner.

He’d kiss her for interrupting the crazy woman in charge of the funeral if it weren’t for the fact Spock could probably break him in two if he really wanted.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but I really need to talk to Mr McCoy here. Alone.” Nyota smiles, it’s a tight smile, but the crazy woman leaves with a promise to return tomorrow.

“Do you think I can fake being asleep for a whole day?”

“No, Leo, you definitely cannot fake being asleep for a whole day, and that’s not what I came to talk to you about anyway and you know it.” Nyota grabs his hand, rubbing her thumb over the veins in his wrist. Leonard wonders if she’ll let him spend the conversation admiring her nails. He doubts it. “What are you gonna do when you leave the hospital?”

“Go home?”

“To your empty house? I don’t think so.” Nyota taps his chin up with her free hand, and Leonard looks up to see she actually looks concerned, despite the harsh tone. “You’re staying with me and Spock.”

“But you’re both morning people.”

“Yeah, but we can make bacon sandwiches and coffee for you.”

They would, as well, that’s the thing. They’ve done it before, when Leonard and Jocelyn have spent the night at their house. They dance around each other in the kitchen with ease, and all Leonard can think of is the last pancake day they spent together, helping Joanna flip the pancakes and getting more pancake mix on themselves than in the actual pan, and it’s like all the things he hasn’t been able to feel burst out of him, and he finds himself sobbing into Nyota’s shoulder as her arms slide around his neck.

It’s a while before he manages to calm himself down, while Nyota holds him, only moving to find a more comfortable place on the bed, not even bitching Leonard out for getting tears and possibly snot on her silk shirt.

 “I miss them, Nyota.”

“Oh sweetie, I know. I miss them too.”

They stay like that until Leonard falls asleep, and when he wakes up, Nyota’s left a note saying she’ll deal with the crazy funeral woman.

It’s the closest Leonard’s come to feeling normal since he woke up.

\----------

M’Benga finally shows his face the day before Leonard’s due to be released. He thinks Chapel actually pulled some strings to get Leonard some peace from Dowd and his bizarre hair, because the only people he’s had to deal with for a few days are Nyota and various nurses.

He’s recently been trusted to wash his body by himself with a hand towel in the bathroom, but the nurses still insist that doing his hair is a two handed job and therefore, Leonard needs help.

So when M’Benga walks in, Leonard can’t really blame him for the way he just stops and stares. Nyota took pictures on her phone; he knows just how ridiculous he looks with a head full of bubbles.

“Do they put conditioner in too?”

“Fuck off.” They do, actually, but M’Benga doesn’t need to know that.

“Still as charming as ever.”

“I try. What are you doing here?”

“I’m uh,” Geoffrey looks down at his shoes and shifts his weight. Leonard wonders if this is what he looked like when he asked his wife on that first date, but then he images Geoffrey asking _him_ on a date and cringes. “I’m your ride. For tomorrow, I mean.”

For Jocelyn and Joanna’s funeral.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

“Nick said you might have some trouble with the car? We could walk, if you want. It’d take a while but it’s doable.”

“Nick?”

“Dowd. His first name is Nick.”

“His hair is stupid, and why does he think I’d have trouble with the car?”

Geoffrey’s looking at him like he thinks Leonard belongs on the psychiatric ward, and it actually takes a moment for Leonard to realise what they’re worried about.

“I’m not scared of cars all of a sudden.”

“Leo, you might not feel that way when you’re actually in one. You could be suffering from emotional trauma and–”

“I don’t have a wife or daughter anymore for you to kill if you crash the car; I think I’ll be fine.”

He feels bad when Geoffrey flinches, but Leonard is still somewhat numb to the world, even after his sob session with Nyota all that happened was that he woke up tired and still not hungry.

Dowd is worried about his weight loss, and Nyota made a face that meant she really wanted to shout at him for it but he was still too pathetic for her to go through it.

Eventually Geoffrey leaves when it’s obvious they don’t actually have that much to talk about when one of them is shit scared of saying something wrong, and the other doesn’t really have much interest in anything anymore.

Leonard finds himself staring out the window that night, watching the stars. It doesn’t feel real. In less than 24 hours, he’ll be standing at his family’s grave, and _none_ of it feels real.

\----------

The morning of the funeral and Leonard’s release date – Leonard is pretty sure none of them trust him to be released any other time and turn up to the funeral sober – is quiet.

He washes himself in the bathroom then lets Chapel wash and dry his hair for him, saying nothing when she runs her fingers through his hair for a few minutes after she’s finished.

“I’ll be here, if you need me.” Her voice is a whisper, like she’s scared of breaking the quiet of the bathroom, and Leonard would laugh at her but when he speaks, his voice is just as quiet.

“I know.”

M’Benga shows up with his suit just after Chapel leaves, and Leonard wonders if there’s a plan to avoid overwhelming him or something, and if there was Leonard has no doubt it was Dowd’s idea, but he’s distracted by sleeves and trouser legs before he can question Geoffrey about it.

“He did a good job, Dowd. He did a good job.”

“That’s good. At least now I’m a cripple with a dead family and no job that’s gonna have a pretty scar. You have no idea how much that was weighing me down.”

Geoffrey doesn’t say anything, just focuses his attentions back on Leonard’s tie, because, hey, guess what you can't do with just one hand.

There’s a part of Leonard that wishes someone will call him out on how he’s acting, will tell him to stop being an asshole. But they won’t, and a much larger part of Leonard is glad, because until someone asks them what colour dress their six year old daughter would’ve liked so they can _bury_ her in it, they can all deal with Leonard being an asshole.

"Leo...” M'Benga's looking like he wishes he was anywhere but here right now, and he's fiddling with a large needle of some sort. "I need to– can I pin the sleeve up?"

“Go ahead, it’s not like it’s doing much good just swinging around there really.”

Eventually though, when Geoffrey’s made sure Leonard’s set and ready, he’s finally allowed to leave the hospital.

Dowd meets them at the reception, and talks at Leonard while he signs all the release forms. Leonard tells Geoffrey it’s really lucky that Leonard’s left handed, and Geoffrey makes a face like Leonard kicked him in the balls. Dowd remains oblivious to the whole conversation, and just tells him dates to come in to start therapy and discuss a synthetic, which Leonard ignores completely.

They manage to make it all the way to the car park before someone gives him a weird look, Leonard is almost impressed.

"Are you going to be okay, Leonard?” Dowd asks, and Leonard frowns at him until he gestures towards the car. "You don't have to go, maybe it’s too soon."

“I kind of do though.” Leonard opens the passenger door. “You only get to attend your wife and daughter’s funeral once, right?”

This time, both M’Benga and Dowd make a face like Leonard kicked them in the balls, and all he can think is that it’s probably for the best neither were present when Nyota told him it was okay to be scared of getting in another crash, and that he told her he was only scared that he’d survive if he did.

"Can we just go? I've heard its bad taste not to show up to your family's funeral on time."

Geoffrey’s expression turns even more distressed before he turns and promises Dowd he’ll get Leonard to his appointments on time, and then finally Leonard is off hospital grounds.

Just like he knew he would be, Leonard is fine throughout the journey, until they’re about ten minutes out and suddenly he realises he’s not going to make it through the day without having some sort of breakdown unless he’s got something to keep him going.

"Pull in here."

“Leonard you left hospital less than an hour ago.” Geoffrey sends Leonard a disapproving glare when he sees what Leonard wants, and of course it’s when Leonard genuinely needs something that people decide to say no to him.

"Geoffrey, _please_." He tries to ignore the way his voice cracks half way through, but he knows Geoffrey doesn't, and that's the only reason the man is pressing a bottle of bourbon and a flask into his hand 10 minutes later.

“I just–“ Geoffrey rubs at his face, and lets out a sigh that makes his whole body deflates, and when he turns to Leonard he looks like he’s aged 10 years. “Just call me, if you need anything. Call me, or Christine, or even Nick. Just– just call someone, Leo. Please. Don’t do something stupid, we’re here for you. All you need to do is call.”

"Yeah, okay. I will."

They both know he won't, and Geoffrey lets out another sigh before he starts driving again. They don’t speak until they’re at the church.

It’s a nice church, with a nice priest. Leonard knows because it’s where he went to church as a child, and it’s where they buried his mother. It’s where he got married. It’s where he buried his father, and now it’s going to be where he’s going to bury his wife and daughter.

Leonard wonders how many family members you have to bury before they give you a discount.

No one notices Leonard or Geoffrey until Jocelyn’s parents greet him, and then everyone turns to look at him. Or rather, they turn to look at the pinned up left sleeve of his suit.

Leonard takes a long drink from his flask and everyone finds something else interesting pretty quickly.

Jocelyn’s parents insist on making sure he’s okay, which is weird because he always got the impression they were never really 100% sold on him until Joanna was born, but he supposes he’s the only connection to their daughter and granddaughter they have left, which is confirmed when they keep repeating how they’re glad he made it, that they didn’t lose all three of them. Leonard thinks that maybe they did, because he still feels cold and numb inside. By the end of the conversation, Leonard’s taken more drinks than he planned on, but they both graciously choose to ignore it.

He manages to get inside the church with no one else talking to him apart from his grandparents, who hug him tight and tell him they’re proud of how brave he’s being.

He wants to tell them he isn’t brave, he was just unlucky enough to survive where his family didn’t, but Nyota and Spock find him before he gets the chance and drag him into the church. It’s probably for the best.

The priest finds him a few minutes before the funeral starts and asks him if he’d like to say a few words.

Leonard declines and if the priest looks relieved at hearing that, they both ignore it.

Nyota and Spock are behind him, Spock resting a hand on Leonard’s shoulder for a few seconds before he sits down, and it helps something relax ever so slightly in Leonard’s chest.

It doesn’t last for long though, because he has his grandparents on his right, and Jocelyn’s parents on his left, and he’s lucky Nyota refilled his flask for him with just a disapproving glare right before they entered the church, because Jocelyn’s mom keeps flinching away from his side whenever she brushes against it and realises it’s not his arm

Leonard manages to tune out most of the service, trusting Nyota to nudge him if he needs to pay attention, and by the time they stand to head to the graveyard he reckons he’s mastered taking swigs from his flask when the priest isn’t looking.

He really wishes he was surprised when they stepped out of the church into rain, but his life has become such a movie cliché that all that’s missing right now is the sad music.

Nyota walks ahead to talk to Jocelyn’s parents, probably aware that Leonard didn’t exactly step up to the plate. It’s insane, how fast she can walk in heels really.

 “You haven’t asked if I’m okay.” Leonard knows without looking that Spock has his eyebrow raised, and he shrugs, looking up to see that yes, the infamous eyebrow is in fact raised. “Everyone else has asked if I’m okay, I thought it must be mandatory or something.”

“Funerals are not pleasant experiences, Leonard. I would be extremely surprised if you were okay, given the circumstances.”

Leonard remembers attending Spock’s mother’s funeral with Jocelyn. It had been strange, seeing Spock like that. Seeing him emotional, seeing him vulnerable. It makes Leonard think that yeah, maybe Spock does understand.

“I keep trying to put my left hand in my pocket.” He didn’t mean to say it, because if Christine or M’Benga find out, they’ll try and sit him back down in Dowd’s office for therapy and hand holding, but either he’s drunker than he thought or just too tired to care, because that’s what comes out.

Spock just nods, and puts his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, guiding him to where Nyota is standing by Leonard’s grandparents at the grave.

His flask is half empty by the time Joanna’s coffin is resting alongside her mother’s in the grave, but Leonard’s throat still dries up when the size difference between the two coffins hits home. He thinks he made a noise because suddenly his grandma is there, wrapping her arm around his waist and holding him tight.

Nyota brushes her fingers against his hand when it’s time to actually bury them, and he manages to function just long enough to grab a handful of dirt and let it fall onto their coffins, and then the next thing he knows, he’s sitting on his bed at home a note from Nyota on the bedside table saying she’ll pick him up in the morning so he can spend a while with her and Spock, and the bottle of bourbon sitting next to it.

His body feels stiff and heavy, but eventually he manages to move just enough to grab the bourbon and head into Joanna’s room, settling down on the floor next to her bed. It must only be an hour before he falls asleep, the amount of liquid in the bottle much lower than when he started, and the scent of Joanna’s shampoo reaching him from her pillows.

It’s still dark when Leonard opens his eyes next, and for the life of him he can’t figure out why he’s on the floor of Joanna’s room.

“Baby girl?” He tries to push himself onto his feet, because Joanna must’ve just had a bad dream, and he’s only got a few hours of sleep before he’s got to be up for his shift at the hospital, but he loses balances and falls, hitting the ground with a dull thud that brings everything flooding back.

Leonard can’t push himself up onto his feet properly because he lost his left arm in the car crash.

Joanna didn’t have another bad dream because she’s lying cold in a box six feet under.

He can’t crawl back into bed with Jocelyn because she’s next to their daughter, dead in a wooden box.

The numb feeling in his chest is replaced with an overwhelming sense of loss, and it hurts so bad all Leonard can do is sob until his throat is sore and his tears have dried up, and when that happens, he drinks.

He drinks until he’s blissfully numb again, and he’s surrounded with memories of his girls, memories that remind him how beautiful they were. How happy, beautiful, and _alive_ they were.

One of the first things Leonard had been asked about the funeral was if he had wanted an open casket. He didn’t even think about it before he rejected the idea, because the thought of that being the last time he saw his girls? Cold and pale, painted up in some mimicry of life? That’s not what he wanted. That wouldn’t have been his girls.

If he has to have one last memory of them, he wants it to be of them laughing, of them laughing and breathing and being _alive_. If he has to have one thing to last him for the rest of his life, that’s what he wants, not what some stranger thinks he wants.

He falls asleep like that; suit and shoes still on, bottle of bourbon lying half empty next to him and tear tracks drying on his face. But just before he does, he thinks of the way his grandma prayed during his father’s funeral, and the way she prayed again today.

Leonard tries to remember if he believes in God, but all he can see are the four gravestones with the last name McCoy carved into them.

If there is a God, Leonard just hopes that he takes mercy on him, and lets this end sooner rather than later.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is useless for me to describe to you how terrible Violet, Klaus, and even Sunny felt in the time that followed. If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels, and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it.”  
> ― Lemony Snicket, The Bad Beginning

Leonard has a calendar hanging on his kitchen wall.

It’s one of those you can make on the internet using your own pictures.

Leonard had never really seen the point of them; did it really matter if there was a little photo in the box of his birthday? But Jocelyn liked them, always ordering about 5 – one for the kitchen, one for the hallway, one for her parents, one for Leonard’s parents and another one for Leonard’s office – so Leonard just shrugged and smiled when he saw the pictures of Joanna’s face decorating whatever month they were on.

It’s March 14th now and there are no photos in the boxes for this month, just three large photos of Leonard Jocelyn and Joanna together.

In January, there was a little box with Leonard’s face in it on the 20th.

In April, on the 29th there’ll be a little box with Jocelyn’s face in it, and on November 19th, Joanna’s face will grin at him from her little box. December 27th has a blurry photo of him and Jocelyn kissing took by Joanna on their anniversary the year before.

Leonard knows all this by heart now, because he’s spent at least two hours going through the various months.

It was still dark when Leonard woke up; a glance at the clock on Joanna’s bedside table had shown that it was about 5am.

By the time he’d managed to peel his suit and shoes off and change into sweats and a plain grey t-shirt,  it was half five and the birds were just starting to sing their song.

He didn’t know what to do with himself at first, the house was quiet; Nyota wouldn’t turn up until 10 at the earliest, and now that Jocelyn and Joanna were gone, it was just Leonard in an empty four bedroom house.

He had gone into the kitchen to put the bourbon bottle away, originally. He wasn’t done with it yet, but if he turned up at Nyota’s house drunk already, she might burn his bacon.

But then he’d seen the calendar, seen the way Jocelyn had written little reminders and appointments for the month, _lunch w/ Nyota, Leo @ dentists 11am – don’t let him forget!!!_ , and he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

He kind of wants to make a note of the funeral, the day of the crash, everything. But Jocelyn always teased him for his doctor’s scrawl and suddenly the idea of breaking up her neat handwriting with his own just seems terrible.

And that’s how Nyota finds him five hours later; staring at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall, pen in his hand.

It only takes her a second to look from his face to the calendar and see the family in the pictures grinning back at him for her to understand. Then she’s taking the pen out of his hand and wrapping her arms around him.

“Spock’s made the bed in the guestroom for you, and you can stay for as long as you need.” She says the words into Leonard’s shoulder, because without her heels the top of her head only just reaches Leonard’s chin; it’s been so long that Leonard’s actually seen her without heels he almost wants to make a comment on her height, but he just can’t bring himself to look away from the photo of the three of them at Joanna’s fifth birthday party.

“I didn’t pack any clothes.” He finally turns to look at Nyota, and the smile she gives him was a lot like the one she smiled at the funeral; small, and more than a little bit sad, but real. It makes something tighten in Leonard’s chest.

“I know. It’s okay. You can borrow something from Spock,” Nyota pauses, moving her hands from Leonard’s waist to his shoulders, and squeezes. “It’s okay for you to not be okay right now, Leo. It’s okay to ask people for help.”

“I’m not okay,” The words come out as a half hearted laugh, because really, anyone with eyes can tell that he’s not okay. “I’m not okay and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay again.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

And the thing is, Leonard really thinks she does.

She doesn’t rush him when he takes too long to pull shoes on, distracted by the sight of Joanna’s shoes lined up next to his own.

She doesn’t say anything when the only things he brings with him are the pain medication Dowd prescribed and his phone.

She doesn’t ask if he’s going to be okay in the car, just slides in the front seat and starts the engine.

She doesn’t say anything until they get to her house, and even then all she asks is:

“Do you want coffee before or after your bacon sandwich?”

Leonard thinks he might just love her for it.

\----------

Nyota leaves him in her hallway to go work wonders in the kitchen – her and Spock are both excellent chiefs, it’s kind of crazy how talented they both are when it comes to cooking – and Spock appears from upstairs carrying a box set of James Bond films.

James Bond is the main reason Spock and Leonard became friends, really. Leonard likes them because he used to watch them with his mom as a kid, and Spock likes them because–

Leonard’s not actually sure _why_ Spock likes them, and asking will probably be more effort than it’s worth.

“Skyfall?” Leonard sits himself down on the largest sofa and smiles when Spock nods.

(They have an unspoken agreement to never bring up the fact that the first time they watched it, they both got a bit emotional when M died, mostly made in fear of Nyota ever finding out.)

While Spock messes around with the sound and menus, Leonard looks around. He knows what their house looks like, of course, but he’s never realised just how similar it was to his own until now.

Spock and Nyota’s house is made up of browns and creams, with wooden furniture and a soft brown sofa in the living room. The guest room is cream, and the kitchen and bathrooms have black tiles and furniture, which would be bland, but everywhere Leonard looks there are little splashes of colour; a bright blue blanket resting on the back of the sofa which Leonard vaguely remembers giving them for Christmas, a painting made up of bright yellows and red painted by Spock’s mother hanging above the TV, and sitting proudly in the middle of the coffee table; a little green flower pot Joanna made in kindergarten. Leonard avoids looking at it for too long.

Leonard’s house is full of colours as well – Jocelyn redecorated the entire house when she was 7 months pregnant, saying she refused to make a child live in a house where the only decoration was a single vase – bright colours decorating the house in the form of rugs, paintings, vases and appliances (their toaster is bright red, but it would take a braver man than Leonard to say no to a heavily pregnant Jocelyn McCoy).

It helps settle something in Leonard, the feeling of home without the memories, and he manages to fall asleep half way through Dr. No.

\----------

“What would you do? If it was Nyota, I mean. What would you do?”

Nyota had woken him up to eat his bacon sandwich, bully him into drinking a glass of water with his pills, and then had gone upstairs to leave him and Spock to their “male bonding over guns and fast cars.”

“I don’t know.” Spock pauses the film (they went for Casino Royale after Leonard woke up for the last five minutes of Dr. No) and looks at Leonard with his serious face. It’s not that much different from his usual expression, apart from a minute furrowing of the eyebrows. “It’s an impossible situation to imagine. Life without Nyota simply seems unimaginable. She has become very important to me.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do Spock, I really don’t know.”

“Which makes sense, given the circumstances you’ve found yourself in,” It’s the second time Spock has mentioned circumstances, and Leonard thinks it might be his way of saying ‘given the fact your wife and daughter are dead.’ “But Leonard, only you can decide what you will do. I only ask that you remember that Nyota and I are here for you.”

 “Yeah, I know.” Leonard has to blink a few times, because there’s no way he’s going to cry because of _Spock_ , of all people. “Put the film back on.”

He tells himself Spock takes a moment to compose himself as well to make himself feel better.

\----------

Nyota lets him use her laptop when she gets tired of whatever it was she was doing, and all three of them curl up on the sofa to watch Goldfinger.

There’s a few e-mails from the hospital, 2 from Chapel, 1 from M’Benga, and 5 from Dowd which makes Leonard reply to M’Benga’s e-mail with a  ‘ _fuck you for giving him my e-mail’_ which Nyota sees and snorts at because apparently it’s not very mature to ignore medical professionals, even if they have bright orange hair.

Spock informs him that Dr. Dowd’s hair is actually classed as red, not bright orange, so Leonard tells them both to fuck off and goes back to checking his e-mails.

There’s one from his aunt Clarice. He hasn’t really spoken to her since he was a kid apart from the odd e-mail or major family event, not because he doesn’t like her, but because she ran off to be at one with nature when Leonard was 19.

Leonard isn’t sure that Winnipeg, Canada would be his first choice if he wanted to paint with all the colours of the wind, but who’s he to judge?

It’s mostly composed of ‘I’m sorry your family is dead, are you okay?’ and then something about rock formations or something which he skims over. But then near the end she asks if he’s feeling unwell, because Leonard’s grandma mentioned on the phone that Leonard looked rather thin at the funeral, and would he like for her to send him some herbal medicine?

Leonard’s only 85% positive she’s on about marijuana.

He sends his grandma a quick e-mail that boils down to ‘ _stop talking to Aunt Clarice about me she keeps offering me ‘herbal medicine_ ’’ and then sends Clarice a quick e-mail saying thanks but no thanks to the herbal medicine, it just turns out you lose your appetite when your wife and six year old daughter dies, and that he hopes Canada is treating her well.

He gives up on his e-mail after that, instead choosing to kick Nyota in the thigh and asking if she thinks he’s lost weight when she turns to looks at him.

“Yeah, you have. Do you want to talk about why?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay then.”

They go back to watching the film after that.

\----------

Leonard stays with Nyota and Spock for three days in the end before he asks Spock for a ride home Sunday evening. Spock gives him a strange look, and Leonard thinks that if they were the type of friends that talk about feelings, they would have right then. But they’re not, they’re friends that sit and watch James Bond films in silence together, so he doesn’t, and just turns to fetch his car keys.

Spock doesn’t offer to stay when he drops Leonard off either, and Leonard appreciates it more than he can say.

He watches a film on his TV for a while, wrapping a blanket around himself and pretending he doesn’t take deeper breathes whenever he thinks he can smell Jocelyn’s perfume, but he doesn’t really pay attention, and doesn’t really understand the plot other than a man (Leonard thinks it might be Tom Cruise) needs to save the world for some reason. He’s a few minutes away from falling asleep when his phone goes off.

_Nyota – 22:17 – Spock’s made some soup for you; I’ll bring it round on my lunch break tomorrow x_

_Sent – 22:18 – You’re an angel x_

_Nyota – 22:20 – I know, make sure you get some sleep xx_

Leonard thinks that if he hadn’t noticed it, he would’ve been okay. He thinks he would’ve been able to get up off the couch, take his painkillers, walk to his bedroom and get in bed. Hell, he might’ve even fallen asleep at some point.

But as he closes out of Nyota’s message, he notices it, and then there’s no chance of him sleeping that night.

_Jocelyn 01/03/2014 – Just thought you should know, Jo’s met a boy at kindergarten she thinks is cute, I’ve already_

_hidden_ _the baseball bat before you even think about it :P Love you x_

He rereads the text five times before he gets up and finds the bourbon bottle from the night before. He starts drinking when it hits home that it’s the last text he’s ever going to get from Jocelyn.

But eventually the bottle runs dry, so Leonard drags himself up to his bedroom, crawls into his bed and breathes in the scent of his wife’s perfume. It takes a moment for him to type the numbers into his phone, each ring of the phone sending a stabbing pain into his heart.

Then the phone stops ringing, and it feels like someone’s punched Leonard in the chest.

_“Hi this is Jocelyn McCoy, I’m not here right now, so leave a messa—no Jo baby don’t put that in your mout—“_

He rings Jocelyn’s number two more times before he’s able to actually speak, and even then he has to choke down the tears.

“I know _–_ I know you can’t hear this; it’s just me talking to an answering machine but,” Leonard takes a deep breath, looks at his bedroom, sees Jocelyn’s clothes in the wardrobe, her jewellery and makeup on the vanity, smells her perfume on the bed sheets and suddenly the tears are rolling down his face and he doesn’t think he could stop crying if he tried.

“But it’s been under a week since I buried you, and I don’t know if I can do this anymore."


End file.
